Picture this:
You’re walking down a long dusty street stepping over trash, potholes, and uneven pieces in the road. It’s significantly warmer here than any other parts of the city due to the concrete ground, concrete walls and few trees in sight. There’s a reeking smell of urine and cheap perfume lingering in the air. Along the multicolored concrete walls are lines of doors standing about 4 feet apart. Door after door after door after door. Behind each door is a small room with a bed, a vanity with makeup, and a washbasin.
The street is busy with men of all ages walking, riding bikes, driving motorcycles, and some in expensive vehicles. You see, it is not necessary to take this street to get to any specific destination. In fact, it’s out of the way for everyone, but not these men. They all chose this street as their route with the same specific purpose in mind. Peering into each doorway while passing by, there’s no hiding it.They are there for one reason and one reason alone.
They are shopping.
Not just shopping for items, but shopping for women.
Within one doorway wearing tiny pieces of see-through silk, high heels, and layers of makeup stands a mother trying to make enough money to feed her baby. The next doorway holds a daughter with the responsibility of providing for her unable parents. In another doorway stands a young girl needing to pay off her rent. They each stand up tall, strong, and confident, yet hurting and ashamed inside. Searching, dreaming, and wishing for a way out.
With lack of education, no businesses will hire them so this is viewed as the only option to make money. Many women hide it from their families saying they have a regular job in town, when in reality they are going into town to sell their bodies. They live double lives with fake names and identities so know one at home discovers what they are doing. You see, they don’t wish this upon themselves. They all desperately want to escape, but believe this is the only job they are capable of doing to support themselves and their families.
What you have just read is a small taste of our ministry on Monday’s and Friday’s at what we call The Line in Guatemala City. We walk through the crowd into their dark rooms, invite them for coffee, and establish friendships. Over coffee, we listen to their stories, encourage them, share the Word, and pray over them. This is most definitely the hardest ministry I have done on the race. I wish I could just fix everything for these women and give them all the answers they need, but I can’t. I don’t have any answers for them and I can’t get them out of this. All I can do is pray and encourage.
This is incredibly discouraging to me because I serve a God who is mighty and able to save these women. But He is teaching me to trust and be patient as His timing is better than mine and He sees way more from His perspective than I am able.
So what do I do?
I pray,
and scream at God,
and fight Him,
but in the end I trust that He is good, even when this world is far from good.
He will take care of His children because He loves us and He is a good good Father.
